


Abhivarga

by AllegoriesInMediasRes



Series: Jodhaa Akbar canon fics [13]
Category: Jodhaa-Akbar (2008)
Genre: Compass Rose Meme, Gen, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 07:50:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16214672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllegoriesInMediasRes/pseuds/AllegoriesInMediasRes
Summary: Jodhaa, Sujamal, & Bhagwant Das, for the Compass Rose meme.Title means “compass” in Sanskrit.





	Abhivarga

**Author's Note:**

  * For [avani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avani/gifts).



**North**

first encounter |  **(turnabout is) fair play** | fool’s gold | forbidden fruit | the female of the species is more deadly than the male

Sujamal is not gentle with her; he elbows her and kicks at her in their duels, as he would were he fighting any of his fellow men. Dark bruises blossom on her arms and legs that have her mother tutting in disapproval. 

Jodhaa gives as good as she gets, and in time she masters enough skill to get in a few jabs of her own, to even send Sujamal toppling to the ground and having to stab his sword into the ground. 

**South**

(cold) comfort |  **confession** | cloak and dagger |  crocodile tears | charmed life

Sujamal confesses it would be easier if he could hate Bhagwant Das. But they have always been friendly, even if he is closer to Jodhaa. He drags him up to bed after a late night drinking, Bhagwant Das asks for help in his studies, they tease Jodhaa together, and both his cousins call him  _ bhaisa _ as though he were truly their older brother.

And yet Bhagwant Das speaks with a glow in his eyes of “When I am King” and “As Crown Prince”, and Sujamal knows the day will come when he must make a stand, if he wants any shred of self-respect and pride.

**East**

**stars** | songs and stories | (politics/misery makes for) strange bedfellows | silver lining | sea change

One summer night, when Jodhaa is eight months old, Bhagwant Das about five, and Sujamal nine or so, their maids drag them to the rooftop of Amer, so that they might sit beneath the vast, bejewelled sky.

He goes up with them because he must, but he remains sulky. He is old enough, now, to understand that they are his siblings in spirit but cousins by blood, his aunt and uncle are his parents only in spirit, old enough to notice the strange glances they send his way, and sees little point in pretending otherwise.

It is long past sunset, and a warm night, but Jodhaa is feisty and active as though it were morning. She is learning to walk now, and Sujamal watches with a disinterested eye as her maids coo over the toddling princess. Jodhaa wriggles to a standing position, then walks ten whole steps without any assistance, before falling straight into Sujamal’s lap.

He catches her instinctively, and she digs her tiny fists into his hair, struggling to find her footing. Above them, the stars twinkle, and the land hums with summer, and for the first time in months, Sujamal finds he is not quite so sulky. 

**West**

just in time | joined at the hip | jam tomorrow | juvenile |  **journey’s end**

“Is it true that women do not cry out when committing jauhar?” Bhagwant Das asks out of nowhere.

Sujamal and Jodhaa stare at him. He shrugs. “I overheard Mother and Jodhaa discussing it, and I wondered if that part is true.”

Sujamal considers it: he once burned his hand on a candle. It was only a second, but the pain was terrible, and he had wept for ages. For the whole body to be subject to it, and knowing that death is the final destination… 

He looks at Jodhaa -- forthright, earnest Jodhaa -- and thinks of her committing either jauhar or sati, dressed in her finest red sari and bedecked in what should have been her wedding jewelry. It is the most glorious end any woman can hope for, but he still tastes ashes at the thought.

Jodhaa shrugs. “Why would a true Rajput woman cry out when she is joining her husband?”

“Then why do we weep when we are burned?” asks Bhagwant Das. 

“Can we drop this?” Sujamal says abruptly. Neither of his younger siblings listen.

“Perhaps when it truly matters, they keep silent,” Jodhaa muses, though he can hear the uncertainty. “Besides, as terrible as the pain may be, the alternative is always worse.”

“Worse?” Bhagwant Das asks, to which Jodhaa gives him a deadpan stare. “Do you not know what happens to the women after a fortress has been seized?”

“I’m going to practice my swordfighting,” Sujamal says, rather loudly than he’d intended. “Anyone who wants to join me may come to the courtyard.”

He does not need to look behind him to know that they are both following.


End file.
